


April/May Tumblr Fics

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal (TV) RPF
Genre: Daddy Kink, Fluff, M/M, Mizumono Spoilers, Some of these are a little cracky, leash and collar play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:17:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 14,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1421158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of all the prompts/request I'm filling during April & May! (Includes the many left over from March that I'm continuing to work on!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Well now they know

**Author's Note:**

> So April is a very busy month for me, and I know I won't achieve the many prompt fills I did in March, but I'm going to at least go back and get through a few :3
> 
> [majestic-otaku](http://majestic-otaku.tumblr.com/) asked, "Hi I just found your blog and it's beautiful and wonderful and I don't know if it's okay but I was wondering if you would write a little fic where Hannibal is cooking breakfast and then Jack stops by for some reason. But then a cute little oblivious sleepy will comes down waring only Hannibal's silk sheets and tries to cuddle his Hanni and get him back into bed. The whole time jack is just mind blown and Hannibal's like this be my babe!! Extra points if its the whole forensics team (•ूᴗ•ू❁)"

The sound of the door bell drew Hannibal from the kitchen, running his hands along his apron to make sure they were clean before he opened the door. His door step was crowded, four sets of eyes peering in, led of course by Jack Crawford, standing center.

“Good morning Jack,” he said, gave the rest of the team a polite nod. “Please, do come in. What a surprise.” He let them file in, closing the door, catching Beverly’s eye as he turned. “What as brought you all to my home so early?”

“Will Graham,” Jack pointed out, “I need him, we have some business to attend to.”

“For a case?” There was a round of nods. “Ah. Well, please, come sit down. Coffee? No, please, I insist, let me get some coffee.” Hannibal left them in his dining room, slipping into the kitchen. Brian and Jimmy sat down with a shrug, while Jack stood, hand on one chair, looking at his watch, then at Beverly, who gave him a silent shrug. She didn’t know exactly where Will was- just that he was here. Alana had told her- she’d had to check in on the dogs that morning.

Hannibal returned carrying a tray, setting it down on the table and offering the cups of coffee.

“This is much appreciated, Dr. Lecter,” Jack said, shooting a glare at Brian and Jimmy as they cooed over the exquisite coffee, “but where is Will? We really need to get going.”

Hannibal seemed about to answer, when he was cut off by a sleepy, “Hannibal?” being called out from the other room. With a charming smile, he excused himself, slipping out. The four looked at each other, and Beverly was the first to move, rushing for the neat room with Brian and Jimmy on her heels, and Jack not far behind. There was a collision as Beverly stopped to stare, Brian and Jimmy colliding with her and Jack nearly piling into them.

Will was rubbing his eyes with one hand, the other clutching at a very expensive looking jade sheet wrapped low around his hips. Hannibal had one arm around him, whispering something, and Will shook his head, leaning up to sleepily kiss his jaw.

“I think we found Will,” Brian said, getting a chuckle from Jimmy and a huge grin from Beverly. Jack had the overwhelming urge to knock their heads together like children.

“Will,” Hannibal whispered, looking at the audience they now had. “Go on upstairs and get dressed. Jack is here, he needs you to go with him.”

“Hmm?” He yawned. “Come back to _bed_ Hannibal. Please?” He nuzzled closer, whispered rather loudly, “I know you’re still tired after last night.”

Jack cleared his throat, but Beverly was already giggling, clasping her hands together happily. Behind her, Brian and Jimmy exchanged glances, Brian whispering quietly for a quick bet as to who bottomed.

“Will,” Hannibal whispered again, but Will was pressing up against him, half asleep and loosening his hold on the sheet. It drifted further down his hips, and Beverly squealed when she glimpses a good two inches along half his ass. Brian muttered _not bad_ and got an angry and rather jealous elbow from Jimmy.

Hannibal looked up, shrugging a little at Jack, who growled a command and grabbed Brian and Jimmy, forcefully pulling them away. Beverly didn’t follow, she just grinned at Hannibal, until Jack came back and grabbed her too, pulling her away.

Hannibal heaved a small sigh when they were gone, wrapping both his arms around Will and holding him tihglty against him, lips pressing to his forehead. “Go back to bed,” he whispered, “I’ll be up shortly. I don’t think Jack is going to want to take you anywhere any time soon.”

“Hnn, Jack’s here?” Will whispered, opening his eyes a little more and yawning into Hannibal’s grey sweater.

“Yes, I told you this, darling. Now, go back to bed.” Hannibal let one hand trail down along his spine, pressing over his silken sheet covered ass. Will giggled, fingers clutching at Hannibal’s sweater as he smiled and said, rather loudly,

“Careful with that, I’m still sore from last night.”

In the other room, Jimmy made a very happy noise at winning the bed.

“Go on now,” Hannibal said with a chuckle, and Will untangled from him, walking away back towards the stairs. He’d gotten up about to when he let the sheet completely fall away from his body and trailed it along in one hand. Hannibal openly stared until Will disappeared into the upstairs hallway, then took a moment to compose himself and slipped back into his dinning room, found four sets of eyes staring at him.

“So, uh, busy night?” Brian asked, only to have Jack glare at him threateningly. Hannibal ignored him.

“Perhaps you can conduct your business without Will,” he offered, “I do believe he will be asleep again at this point. I must suggest you give him another two to three hours, if you would like him functioning properly.”

“He probably functions just fine for you,” Beverly threw in, getting high-fives from both Jimmy and Brian.

“Enough!” Jack boomed, and the three sat down with their hands in their laps. “I guess we have no choice. I’ll call Will’s cell on our way back. Let him know the next time I stop by to get him, I’ll carry him to the car if need be.”

“In the sheet?” Beverly was grinning, and this time even Hannibal smiled, just slightly at the corners of his mouth.


	2. You need a prescription

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [archionblu](http://archionblu.tumblr.com/) asked, "ALSO I DON'T CARE HOW YOU MAKE IT WORK PLEASE I NEED THE "PRESCRIPTION FOR HANNIBAL'S DICK" IN A FIC SERIOUS OR CRACK MAKE IT HAPPEN"
> 
> (There's context, but it's quite out there...)

"My head is killing me," Will muttered, shaking the aspiring from their tiny bottle into his hand and tossing them down dry, grimacing as they made their way down his throat. Beverly watched, arms folded, ignoring the body behind her and the way it was expertly cut open in favor of watching Will.

"The smell giving you a headache? Because I can say in close quarters with a body that’s been here a few days, it’s killing me."

"No," he said, even as he wrinkled his nose. "No, just…stress. Everything." He waved his hand at the mess that was the tiny bathroom of the victim’s apartment, where only the two of them fit at a time.

"Sounds like you need a day off."

"I need a week off. No, a month." Will pinched the bridge of his nose, the pain still flaring along his temples, traveling back to the base of his skull.

"You could take a nice vacation with that time."

"I could do a lot of fishing with that time." Beverly smirked.

"Could probably get laid a lot with that time." Will sighed, rolling his eyes and gently pushing past her to look at the body again. Sloppy work, enough to make his throat close up. Okay, maybe the smell was getting to him a little bit.

"You’d love an answer for that."

"I really would." Will was quiet, and Beverly shrugged a shoulder. "Come on Will, you know I live for the details." He was still quiet, tilting his head slightly to change the angle, a gloved hand pulling one eyelid open to glance at bland, dead eyes. Beverly frowned, shifting her weight and placing her hands on her hips. "You know, you’re usually in a pretty good mood after you’ve spent the night with Hannibal. Not grouchy, no headaches. Maybe he’s got some great medicinal powers." She smirked. "You should just get a prescription for Hannibal’s dick, I’m sure your headaches would be gone in no time."

Will straightened up, turning to gawk at her cocky grin, not sure if he really heard her correctly. By he triumphant look, he was sure he had.

"Beverly-"

"Oh c’mon Will, a few doses a day, you’ll be right as rain. Might not sit so well, but your head won’t hurt, I’m sure." She winked, and Will’s cheeks flushed. "Granted, maybe if you just took it orally-"

"Shut up!" he croaked, shaking his head, laughing nervously because it was oddly hilarious to hear Beverly telling him all this, but more embarrassing than anything. "I swear to God Beverly, I’m going to kill you."

"Then I’m calling Dr. Lecter for an emergency, rushed prescription. You need it now, to stabilize you before you hurt someone." She grinned wickedly and Will reached for her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tug her closer, playfully pinning her against him and locking her head in his arms. She gave a laughing squeal, thrashing slightly, her hip smacking into the sink. "Ow!"

"Serves you right."

She reached down as Will loosened his hold slightly, rubbing her hip. “Dammit. Hey, can I borrow some of your meds, Will? I mean, friends share, right?” 

Will tightened his hold again as she laughed, and through the thin door Jack hollered at them that he was going to come in and drag their asses out if they didn’t get back to work.


	3. Hannibal gets drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tighlon](http://tighlon.tumblr.com/) asked, "If you happen to have time for another prompt, could we get drunk!Hannibal. Like Will purposely tries to get him wasted and Hannibal is clumsy and sloppy? I dunno, the thought just really speaks to me."

Will had been sipping at his glass of wine for an hour now. He'd been, for once, the one to get up and refill the glasses, and had barely let any slip back into his cup. Hannibal, on the other hand, had had more than Will cared to count, and currently was rather comfortable looking with his jacket, vest, and even tie forgotten, shirt partially unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up- sloppy, for once, one slightly higher than the other.

Will noticed, and loved it. He was standing by the window, watching, and Hannibal must have noticed because a moment later he had a grin plastered on his normally serene face.

"What?" Will asked, stifling his own grin instead for a small twitch at the corners of his mouth.

"You're staring." There was a slight slur to his words, one that had Will positively elated. "Did dinner not fill you up, William?"

Oh, this was just too good. Will gave in and smiled, sipping his own wine to give himself a minute to take in the way Hannibal's hair had come free and was slowly becoming disheveled.

"Why? Are you offering me another course?" Will inwardly cheered as Hannibal sat up, setting his empty wine glass aside and barely managing to get it on the small table.

"I'm offering you dessert," he said as he stood up, swayed a little. The slur had strengthened, and Will chuckled, hiding it in his wine glass. Hannibal walked over, swaying a little and stopping to regain his balance, seeming to not notice at all. He made it to Will as he reached for one of his own shirt buttons, attempting to free it, but his fingers unable to complete the simple motion.

Will set his wine glass aside then, reaching out to help, popping the button open and trailing fingers down to the next, and then the next.

"I don't know Hannibal," Will whispered, "I'm not sure if I feel like something sweet right now."

"You love my sweetness," Hannibal said, leaning forward, half nuzzling, half clumsily pressing into, Will's curls and inhaling deeply. "You smell delicious" he murmured, and Will felt him pressing more heavily against him. Will braced himself, wrapping an arm around Hannibal to keep him upright.

"Okay big guy," Will said, laughing at himself for the joke that- by Hannibal snorted laugh, he got too. Will wished in that moment he could record this- Hannibal would never snort his laughter again, or frankly do any of this, if not for the wine. Perhaps he'd have to get friendly with Chilton and look into at least microphones for the house.

He was sure if he put them in the bedroom, Hannibal would consent. The man did have that slightly kinky side that Will found absolutely turn-me-on-and-bend-me-over hot.

"Let's get you to bed," Will finally finished, slipping Hannibal's arm over his shoulders and guiding him towards the bedroom. Hannibal leaned against Will, grinning.

"So you do want dessert!"

Will laughed. "How about a rain check on that," he said, "In the morning. We can call it an unhealthy breakfast, okay?" Will was sure with the amount of wine Hannibal had injested that there would be no sexual activities that night. But he looked forward to whatever Hannibal tried once he got him into bed.

It was sure to be sickeningly sweet in the morning to remind Hannibal of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just feeling cracky tonight, and gosh I single handedly destroyed Hannibal's character.


	4. Make up in the rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "Hey, I don't know if it's too late to give you a prompt, but i just tought of that. Hannibal and Will have a fight, not a deal-breaker, but big enough not to talk to each other for a couple of days (mainly out of pride and stubbornness from both parts), untill Hannibal can't take it anymore and goes to Will and they make up with a movie-like scene in the rain. Fluff. Fluff everywhere."

The rain was pouring down onto Will's house, a steady, strong _pitter patter_ as it pelted onto the roof. The dogs were laying about the living room, lazy in the night, and Will was at his desk, light on, focusing on his latest lure. Next to him, his phone was sitting on the desk. It had rang about an hour ago, yet he had ignored it. He'd seen Hannibal's name and still had no desire to talk to him, hadn't had the desire in a few days. At least, not that he would admit.

Truthfully, he couldn't remember what the fight had been about fully. He just didn't like the way Hannibal spoke to him, as if he was a child. Like something broken, someone to be led around. He was a goddamn grown man, he didn't need someone to hold his hand.

He just happened to like it when Hannibal did.

It started buzzing again, and Will glanced over. He saw Hannibal's name, frowned, ignored it. Once it stopped he moved his hand again, carefully, but a moment later it was ringing again. Sighing, frustrated, Will set his tools down and picked up the phone, angrily barking, "What?"

"You have not answered my calls."

"No shit. Maybe I don't want to talk to you, Hannibal." Will felt irrational anger rising in him, and he couldn't explain it. He wanted to slap Hannibal in his perfect face and be done with it. 

"If you would mind opening your door, please William, I would very much like to settle this."

"Open my...what?" Will heard the shuffle of a door, and then the sounds of rain. He stood up, crossing the short distance to the door, and throwing it open. Out in the dark, standing now in the rain, Hannibal was watching from next to his car. He hung his phone up, stuffing it into his pocket, and Will let his hand drop, staring through the screen door. He hesitated a moment, then shoved his phone into his jean pockets and stepped out onto the porch. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, William." Will frowned, folding his arms over his chest It was cold outside the house, and Will could see that Hannibal was quickly being soaked through. 

"You should've called."

"I tried." Oh, yeah. Will frowned.

"Maybe I don't want to talk to you." Hannibal finally closed the door of his car, walking around it and slowly along the lawn, stopping a few steps back from the steps up the porch.

"Would you listen then, Will?" Hannibal made no move to duck onto the porch to escape the rain and the wind, and Will gave him a nod, feeling as if he almost owed him that, if the man was willing to stand in the rain. "I apologize if I came across as over bearing. It has been... a very long time since I've attempt more than a casual affair with anyone." Will saw Hannibal shiver slightly, stuff his hands into his coat pockets. He was sure it did not good to warm them. "And no one has ever been like you, dear Will. I regret that I am not perfect in this...field."

Will sighed, shifted his weight, let his hands fall to his sides. He wanted to want to slap Hannibal still, but the urge was dying. Truth be told, he'd missed the man since he stormed out of his house in Baltimore a few nights ago. Truth be told, he didn't want to be mad but he felt he should be. Maybe he wasn't very good at this, either.

He made his way off the porch, onto the grass, and walked through the rain to Hannibal. He looked up at him, curls quickly becoming drenched, lashes wet and dark. "I guess maybe I...overreacted," Will admitted. "I don't have a lot of practice with this either." Will reached out, slipped his hand between Hannibal's arm and his body, curling around his waist and sliding in loser. Hannibal took the hint and wrapped his arms around Will, pulling him against his wet body, where Will fit perfectly. Will leaned up, pressing his mouth to Hannibal's and kissing him in a slow, lazy rhythm as the rain soaked down through their clothing to the bone. Hannibal's mouth was warm, it seemed to suck him in, and Will shivered, more from the perfection of it all than from the rain.

"We will have to experience this learning together," Hannibal whispered, pressing his forehead to Will's and smiling. "Am I forgiven?"

"You are." Will brushed his nose again Hannibal's, laughing softly. "Now come inside. I don't want to be responsible for your death by pneumonia." He found Hannibal's hand as it was pulled from his pocket and clutched it in his own, untangling from him and turning, pulling him towards the house. Will was sure from fresh clothing was in order- and thinking about Hannibal forced to wear some of his pajamas, snuggled down under a blanket with him on the bed, was a thought warm enough to let him forget how cold the rain has left him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, it's late and I basically wrote myself out today, but I really wanted to try and fill at least one of the many prompts I've had waiting :)


	5. Daddy Kink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon asked, "Hello! I really loved your daddy kink story! I was wondering if you could do it again? <33 i luv me some smut."
> 
> I couldn't say no- but my brain is rather frazzled from all the work I put into my finals today, so I apologize if it's not the best :(

Will sucked his lower lip into his mouth, his cheeks flushed a lovely pink already. He was sprawled out on the chaise longue of Hannibal's office, perfectly naked, his blush creeping down his neck and onto his chest, which rose and fell in rushed breaths. Hannibal was smiling up at him, stroking a thigh with one hand, the other with tree fingers deep inside him, curling and leaving him breathless.

"Daddy," he whined, tipping his head back, his cock hard and flushed as well. Hannibal watched it bob as he writhed around. "Daddy please."

"Please what?" Hannibal asked, curling his fingers again and finding Will's prostate. The man gasped and jerked, griping at the furniture beneath him until his knuckles went white. "You must be more specific, dear William."

"P-please put it in," he whimpered, and Hannibal's smirk broadened.

"Put what in, my dear boy?" Will groaned, eyes rolling as Hannibal turned his thrusts shallow, teasing.

"Don't make me s-say it, daddy," he whimpered, but then Hannibal's fingers stilled and Will was shaking his head. "Your cock," he whispered brokenly, "Please, put your cock in me daddy."

"That's a good boy," Hannibal said, pulling his fingers out so he could slick his cock off. He nudged Will aside so he could stretch out on the chaise longue, motioning for Will to straddle him. "Be a good boy and come sit on daddy's lap."

Will smiled, eagerly, and scrambled up over him, straddling his thighs and leaning back onto Hannibal's cock as it was guided into his body. He gave little whimpers of joy as he was filled, Hannibal's other hand stroking along the curve of his ass, before he settled back, grinning.

"Be a good boy," he whispered, "and make daddy feel good." Will sucked his lip into his mouth and rocked gently, lifting himself up along Hannibal's length before settling back down. He leaned forward, placed his hands against Hannibal's chest to help him, and began rocking in earnest, eyes screwing shut as his body burned with need.

Hannibal ran his hands along Will's sides, giving him a few low groans as his tight body took every inch of him inside. Hannibal had been thinking about Will all day, imagining this, and when he had walked through his office door as a surprise, he hadn't been able to resist himself. He could tell from the way Will was sobbing already, the way his cock leaked and he rode his cock so desperately that Will had been thinking as well, needing and wanting when others were around and couldn't peek inside his head.

"Talk to me, dear Will," Hannibal whispered, but Will shook his head, curls scattering around his face.

"Dadd-y no, n-ot that!" His face went redder, and Hannibal chuckled, thrusting up into him sharply and tearing a cry from Will's throat. He knew it embarrassed him, and that thrilled Hannibal almost as much as hearing the man tell him all about the very act they were enjoying.  
Almost.

Hannibal stopped his thrusting, forced Will to move himself only, and the man was sobbing brokenly, crying from need. "Be a good boy and talk for daddy, and you'll get your reward." He pushed up, deeper into Will, who gasped, eyes wide.  
"Nnnhhh, do that again." he whimpered, "Please daddy please." Hannibal obeyed, thrusting up again, and Will dipped his head down. "Your c-cock feels so good," he whined. He lifted himself, pushed himself back down on it. "So good inside me."

"Do you like riding daddy's cock?" Will tossed his head back with a hissed "yes" and reached a hand down, wrapping it around his down cock. Hannibal reached out, covered Will's hand with his own, kept it from moving. "Not yet, William. More."

"But I n-need it. You fill me up so much daddy, it feels too good." He shook his head, and Hannibal watched his curls bouncing. "I need to cum daddy. Daddy please let me."

Hannibal groaned, pulled his hand away, steadied Will's hips as the man rode him, tossing his head. He had meant to force him to stave off his orgasm longer, but he felt too good, too tight, and Hannibal had waited too long for this to come. Will stroked quickly, but rode Hannibal faster, biting his lip until he was nearly screaming.

"I...I want you to...cum first," he nearly begged, and Hannibal wanted to lick the tear streaks from his cheeks. "Wanna feel it."

Hannibal drove up sharply, once, twice, and then he was groaning, stilling and letting Will ride him through his, filling him with a slick heat that made Will's eyes roll. Just as Hannibal's own orgasm was ebbing, Will cried out, cum spilling over his finger tips as his body held Hannibal tight, until Will was collapsing down against his chest. Hannibal welcomed it, wrapped his arms around him, stroking along his spine.

"You did so well, William," Hannibal breathed, cupping Will's face and licking a gentle line along one tear streak. "Such a good boy." Will smiled, nestled back down into Hannibal's chest, sighing contentedly. "Always daddy's good little boy."


	6. Daddy, a collar, and a leash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a specific prompt to me, but "I have a craving for Will with a collar calling Hannibal ‘daddy’ and it isn’t happening. #hancelcannibal" was reblogged by someone I follow and I just _had to_.

Will whimpered, his fists trying to clutch onto the carpet of Hannibal’s living room. He was situated on the floor, next to the couch, where Hannibal was calmly relaxing, a book in hand. A thin, pure Italian leather leash was looped about his wrist, loosely extending out to Will, where it was hooked to the collar hung about his neck. The collar was the only thing Will had been allowed to wear.

He was achingly hard, and overly exposed as he was. Hannibal had worked him to near orgasm, fingers slick and deep inside him, his other hand tugging along his cock in the frightfully accurate way Will so desired. He’d been writhing, so close he could taste the salt of it all, and then Hannibal had pulled away, and Will had nearly screamed his agony.

The man, for all it was worth, appeared completely unaffected by it all. Will gritted his teeth, his cock slick with his own precum, leaking long drops onto the carpet. He shifted, and the movement drew Hannibal’s eyes. He closed the book, setting it aside, and studied the flush on Will’s cheeks.

"You’re making a mess," Hannibal scolded, and Will looked down at the wet drops on the carpet. "Clean up after yourself."

Will felt a hot shiver run through him, and he squirmed back a little, dropping his upper body down and licking at the drops on the carpet. They were salty, made him shiver more, push his ass up into the air and feel it settling cool over his slick hole. It made him whimper.

"That’s a good boy," Hannibal whispered, tugging on the leash. Will pushed himself up, crawled over, slipping between his legs and running his hands along Hannibal’s thighs. "If you show me how good you are my darling boy, maybe I’ll give you a treat."

Will stared up with wide eyes, and with no hesitation let his hands run from Hannibal’s thighs to his groin, and began working on opening his pants, his breath coming quickly. “I’m good,” Will whispered, just as he freed Hannibal’s cock and held it heavy in his hand, “I’m a good boy, daddy. I promise.”

Hannibal smiled, reaching down to stroke Will’s hair as Will eagerly stroked his cock. “Sometimes daddy just needs to be reminded, my sweet boy. Your mouth was very naughty earlier.” He moved his hand from Will’s hair down to his face, stroking a thumb along his lips. “Show daddy how sweet your mouth can be.”

Without hesitating Will opened wide and swallowed Hannibal down, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock to cover what he couldn’t take. He bobbed his head, tongue running along with each stroke, his other hand still one Hannibal’s thigh. The doctor had wound the leash tighter around his hand, had leaned back and let out a groan as Will engulfed him with such heat.

He’d been hard while tormenting Will. He’d meant to work him to completion before taking his own pleasure, but Will had been begging for him to fuck him, to fill him up so full, and it had nearly left Hannibal undone without being touched. And while he enjoyed it, oh-so much, it had left him the perfect opportunity to reap a little playful revenge on his lover.

Even now though, he was so near undone that it would have been embarrassing, had he been with anyone else except Will. He watched as Will pulled back, and tugged on the collar so he couldn’t lift his head more than an inch from his cock.

"Please daddy," Will whispered, his hand taking over stroking while he spoke. "I’m being good, daddy. Please cum for me. Please." He whined the last word, before taking Hannibal into his mouth one more time, all the way to his throat, and Hannibal gasped, arching slightly as his orgasm rocked him, left him shooting along Will’s tongue and throat. 

His hold on the leash loosened and Will pulled back, working to swallow everything, but lips smudged pearl. While Hannibal was still trying to catch his breath, he crawled up onto the couch, straddling his lap, and sought his mouth out for a kiss. The extra slickness that let Hannibal’s tongue glide along inside his mouth was enough to have the man wrapping an arm around him, dipping his fingers down between flesh and pushing two into his slick hole. Will cried out, pulling back, and Hannibal pressed his mouth to his throat, right above the collar, grinning.

"You are a clever boy," he whispered, "You make daddy want you so badly, my little Will." He thrust deeper, felt Will trembling around him, his pulse running rampant against his lips. "And I do believe my sweet boy deserves his treat."


	7. Cleansing Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "is Hanni going to wash Will THOROUGHLY after his kill next ep?" popped up on the MurderHusbandsNetwork like a week ago, and I filled it and forgot to post it here! (I'm terrible!)

Hannibal soaked Will’s hand in the porcelain bowel gently,watching the water tinge pink. He had wanted to clean the wound first, to make sure there would be no infection. Yet he would not deny to himself he had wanted to touch Will in that moment, and being able to caress his hand, feel the delicate bones within was far more pleasing than it had any right being.

But he wanted more.

"You should get washed up," Hannibal offered, eyeing Will. He could see spots where snow at melted through his clothing- hidden by his nice coat yes, but there, and he was sure beneath it all a layer of sweat. Will had dressed himself up in such a lovely fashion to present his kill, but Hannibal was more concerned with unwrapping his present now. “Here, come with me.” He pressed a towel gently over Will’s wounded hand as it was pulled from the bowl, patted away most of the water, and then guided him from the dinning room.

Hannibal listened for a protest, and was pleased and mildly shocked that there was none. Not a word as they cut through his bedroom and into the master bathroom. Hannibal stopped, turned to work the button open on Will’s coat- he had neglected to fasten the rest. Hannibal guided it off his shoulders, aware of those beautiful blue-grey eyes watching, but that was all. Simply watching, taking in. Curious- just like Hannibal.

"You risk illness staying in these wet clothes," Hannibal pointed out, running a hand along Will’s side, stopping to squeeze at his waist. He forced himself to pull away, turn and began running hot water into the tub. He waited a moment for a complaint about the use of the tub and now the shower, and when he received some he allowed himself a small smile. He straightened, turned, and reached for Will’s scarf, carefully unwrapping it from his neck. When the man’s throat was exposed he dared to reach up, wrap his hand loosely around it so he could feel Will swallow. Will raised his chin so Hannibal had better access, his eyes steady. Hannibal swore for a moment there was the faintest curve at the corners of his mouth.

Hannibal pulled away, gathering Will’s coat and draping it over his arm. He turned and shut the water off, before walking past Will, promising to return in a minute. He walked into his bedroom, dropped the coat and scarf on his bed, and forced himself to take a deep breath. He worked his own coat off, stripping of everything down to his button up. He even removed his tie, popping a few buttons so it was easier to breathe. He rolled his sleeves up, tried to bury his excitement at having Will so close, so primal- he could smell it when he had been so close, that sharp scent that told him Will’s blood was hammering heavy in his veins.

Hannibal made his way back into the bathroom, found Will’s clothing removed and folded in a neat pile on the floor- something not Will like. Something the younger man had done for him, he was sure. The same way he had dressed up to present Randell, the same way he bothered to tame his curls and choose his best clothing when appearing for therapy.

Hannibal looked at the tub, found Will sitting within it, watching him. Naked. Will was naked, within the walls of his own home, willingly. Hannibal ached suddenly, and swallowed the lump in his throat. He reached for the wall, grabbed the dial for the light and dimmed it until it was nothing but the faintest glow, and he saw Will relax a little. He walked over, carefully settling on the wide lip of the tub, daring to reach out and dance his fingers along the back of Will’s neck.

"Does the heat feel better?" Will nodded. Hannibal reached across the tub for his shampoo, grabbed the bottle and gave Will a moment to object. There was none. With an obvious smile now- although Hannibal was sure Will didn’t see it, as he was still staring forward- Hannibal spread the shampoo along his hands and then carefully worked it into a lather in Will’s curls. Will tipped his head back into the touch, made a small noise, and Hannibal’s cock twitched in his pants. His fingers ran along Will’s scalp, and the younger man let his breath escape him.

When he was done, Hannibal wiped his hands on a towel and stood, reaching for the shower head and pulling it down, turning on the water to rinse the suds from Will’s hair. Will tipped his head far back, his throat fully exposed and beautiful, and Hannibal let his eyes linger as he worked the shampoo from Will’s hair. When he returned the shower head to it’s proper place, he found Will had kept his head tipped back.

"You are very obvious, Dr. Lecter," he whispered through those perfectly pink lips, his tongue darting along them quickly. "You stare openly."

Hannibal dropped down to his knees on the shag cart pooled by the tub, leaning over and running his fingers along Will’s throat. He paused to feel his pulse, a steady pounding of his heart- slightly quickened, just ever so excited, and leaned forward to remove his fingers and press his mouth there. Will’s skin was wet and warm, and he made a little noise, straightened his head slightly as Hannibal grasped his neck one more time in a loose hold. 

Hannibal sucked on the flesh, pressed his tongue to Will’s neck to feel his pulse through the muscle. Will stirred a little, gasped. Hannibal’s heart lurched in a way it never had.

He leaned over to lip of the tub more, reaching with his other hand for the soap. He untangled from Will only long enough to spread the liquid along a cloth, that he dipped into the warm water and rubbed up along Will’s spine. Will relaxed as it was moved over his shoulder blades, then over one shoulder, onto his chest. He turned to look at Hannibal, held his gaze for a moment, before he smiled- wickedly so.

"Cleaning up my mess, Dr. Lecter?" Hannibal nodded, and Will shifted as the cloth dragged down his abdomen, into the water, skirted to his side and over his hip, along one thigh. "Here," Will whispered, reaching for his hand and grabbing it, guiding it back up his thighs. "I got a little exited during the whole thing." He forced Hannibal’s hand to move over his groin, the cloth moving along his balls and half-hard cock. Will groaned, but the smile never left his face. "Just want to make sure I’m completely clean."

Hannibal had long since choked on his breath, and had nearly lost his balance and fallen into the tub with Will. He was almost sad he had regained it. Still, he wrapped the cloth around Will’s cock, teasing and stroking, feeling the flesh harden in his hand. Will pushed up into it, his smile faltering as he worried his lower lip, one hand reaching for and clutching to the lip of the tub. Hannibal pulled the cloth away then, resuming his strokes with just his hand, giving a gentle twist around the head of Will’s cock.

"Fuck," Will cursed, tipping his head back and pushing up. "Yes. Like that Hannibal." The sound of his name coming from Will’s mouth drove him wild, made him stroke faster, his grip tightening. Will shuddered, moaning in such a beautiful way Hannibal wanted to bottle the song and let it play as a lullaby. The kind for nights when he wanted to drive Will into the mattress and force him to bite onto a pillow- all those nights he’d dreamed of and never had.

He was beginning to hope they could still exist.

"Nnnnhh, don’t-stop." Will gasped, eyelids fluttering. "I-I’m…almost."

"Please do, William," Hannibal breathed, his voice rough, a little hoarse, accent thick on his tongue. "For me."

Will shook with release then, giving a loud moan and clutching the tub until his knuckles were white. Hannibal stroked him through it, until Will was trying to pull away, the stimuli too much. Hannibal obliged, choosing to reach up and grasp Will’s throat with his wet hand, holding him still while he sought out his lips. Open mouthed kissed coaxed Will’s tongue to press to Hannibal’s as it entered his mouth, as Hannibal pressed along the muscle, before testing the sharp points of his teeth. Will was pliant beneath him, bending with ease, and when Hannibal pulled his mouth away he tried to follow, whining when he was denied.

"Up," Hannibal whispered, "on your hands and knees." Will stared, wide eyed at him, but obeyed, scrambling, facing away from Hannibal without being told. Hannibal smiled, sucking two of his fingers into his mouth, thinking he could leave and find proper lubricant but deciding no, not in this moment. Let it be a little rough- his Will could handle it. His Will could handle so much, he had proven that be delivering Randell.

He grabbed a handful of flesh with his free hand, and pushed his fingers against Will’s hole. Will gasped, his legs shaking and parting, his ass pushing up, trying to bare himself more for Hannibal, and the doctor wondered if Will had done this before. More so, he wondered if he had ever imagined letting Hannibal touch him like this. Such a wanton movement was not the result of normal instinct- it took a buried desire. It didn’t matter that Hannibal had made him cum once, Hannibal was sure unless Will had done this before he would not have reacted so.

"Who else has touched you, William?" he asked, and Will shook his head, his wet curls sticking to him as he looked back with wide eyes, pupils blown and leaking into the darkening gray-blue of his irises. His mouth was parted, and Hannibal saw that devilish tongue dart out to lick along the lower one.

"No one," he breathed, as Hannibal pushed the digits into him. He groaned. "Except me.” Hannibal lost his breath, thrusting in and out gently.

"Tell me, good Will," he whispered, "How do you do it?"

"Spread your f-fingers." Hannibal did, and Will’s eyes rolled. He shifted, thighs wider still, and Hannibal pushed in deeper, repeating the motion and making Will groan. "A-another," Will breathed, and Hannibal pushed a third finger in. Will bit his lower lip against the slight burn, relaxed as Hannibal was careful to thrust.

"Do you reach release like this, William?" Will nodded.

"Nnngh, y-yeah. Curl your fingers and I-I might-" he cried out when Hannibal did so, stroking along his prostate and making Will’s body feel tight.

"What do you think about when you do this?" Hannibal leaned closer, fingers curling again. "Am I inside you in your mind, my beloved boy?"

Will nodded, gasping out a broken, “fuck,” and trembling. “Call me yours again.”

"Why? You should know Will, you are mine. You have been mine for quite some time now." He thrust harder, curled his fingers again, and in a moment Will was screaming, his body clenching and unclenching rhythmically around Hannibal’s fingers. His balls had nothing left to give and the orgasm was dry, but Will rode it out on Hannibal’s fingers until he was choking back sobs, and Hannibal was pulling back. He stood, Will looking back over his shoulder at him, and Hannibal smiled. "Come out of there, darling," he whispered, and Will turned, carefully standing on shaking legs. Hannibal reached for him, helped him out of the tub, and grabbed a plush towel, slowly beginning to dry him. He nuzzled along Will’s jawline as he did so, smiling and kissing his stubble affectionately. "Take a breath," he murmured, "Our night is only beginning, my sweet boy."


	8. I'm so proud of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another very short piece, based on "imagine Hannibal kissing Will’s bloody knuckles and telling Will how proud he is of him (✿◠‿◠)", from when we were all freaking out before Naka-Choko.

Hannibal handled Will’s hand with care, tilting it in the light of his dining room and examining the raw, skinned knuckles- bloody and tender. Will watched him through gray eyes and heavy lashes but didn’t stop him, simply observed.

"Did it feel good?" he asked, stroking his thumb along the delicate bones of Will’s hand. "To kill him with your bare hands?"

"Yes." Will’s lips seemed to barely move, and Hannibal smiled, releasing his hand and leaving Will alone in the dining room, to stare at Randell’s body splayed on his dining room table. When he returned, he held between his hands a porcelain bowl, filled with warm water, a small towel draped over his arm. He should have easily brought Will to a sink for this, but it was far too impersonal.

Will deserved more- for his progress, he deserved intimacy.

Hannibal set both items on the table and guided Will’s jacket off him, hanging it over the back of a chair. Carefully, he rolled Will’s sleeve up, letting his palm skim down the man’s arm before collecting his hand again, lifting it. He traced his thumb along his knuckle bones, just below torn skin, then guided it into the warm water, settling it beneath the surface. Will allowed it, put up no resistance, and Hannibal expected none- not now, not after they had come so far.

His fingers worked over the raw, bloody skin, cleaning the wounds. Will gave small hiss of breath, his brow knitting together, but he didn’t pull away. “This will take some time to heal,” Hannibal said pointedly. The skin would scab and be raw for some time.

"A constant reminder of my actions." Will’s words were clear, spoken slowly. Hannibal nodded.

"A mark of a true progress, my dear Will." He lifted Will’s hand from the water, which now was tinged a diluted pink, and picked up the small towel, tenderly running it along his hand. He pressed it along bone, was careful at his knuckles, but Will did not offer even a flinch. Hannibal set the towel aside, choosing to still hold Will’s hand in his won, tracing the bones up to his wrist. "And you have come so far." He lifted his hand higher, tilting it in the light, his breath warm against the wound. Will’s eye lids fluttered, his own lips parting as each breath puffed against the raw flesh. 

Hannibal bent his head down, pressing his lips over the wounds, along each knuckle gently, tasting his skin and the tinge of blood along with it. When he reached the knuckle closest to Will’s thumb, he looked up, caught the man’s eyes, watching him, and smiling with his final kiss. When he spoke, his words melted into Will’s skin and delicate bones.

"I am so proud of you, my beloved."


	9. Keep the nightmares away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was asking for head canons, an Anon sent, "Abigail coming to Will's house because she couldn't sleep at the asylum. He lets her sleep in his bed, he's on the couch. She has a nightmare..." and I got a little carried away. More like a mini scene than a fic, but oh well!

Will can hear her thrashing, whimpering. Her groans wake the dogs, and they’re whining at him, not approaching because Abigail is still a bit of a stranger, still new and foreign. Will glanced at them, then over at her, twisting on his bed, and he sits up, throwing the blanket aside and padding across the wood floor in bare feet. He dropped down to his knees next to the bed, reaching out a tentative hand, running it along Abigail’s upper arm where the blanket had fallen away. Her skin is hot, she has the faintest trace of sweat on her flesh, and he rubs along her arm in a soothing way.

"Abigail," he whispered, "Abigail, open your eyes. It’s a dream." Her eyes shoot open, breath rushing out, and she thrashes her head, trying to take in her surroundings. They’re not familiar, but she knows where she is, and relaxes back into the bed, trying to take a deep breath. "It was just a nightmare. You’re safe."

Will pulled away, stood to give her space, but Abigail reached up, grasped his wrist, sitting up, her near black hair laying in tufts over her shoulders. “Wait.” She licked her lips, darted her eyes away. “Can you…” Her voice broke, and she hung her head, whispering in a barely audible tone. “Can you sleep with me?”

Will stared at her for a moment, a list unraveling in his head of the many reasons he shouldn’t, the logical, rational ones. And then he crumbled the list up and left it to rot, nodding slowly. Abigail released his wrist, pulled her legs up so he could crawl into the bed, between her and the wall. He lay on his side, watched her relax back into the mattress, his hand firmly on his own hip, twitching. There was a space between them, it felt like years and miles, and the last threads of his rational brain told him it needed to be there.

But then, Abigail shifted, pressed back against him, fit her curves delicately against his body. His hand slipped, brushed her hip, and he grabbed it, entangled their fingers and pulled it over her, pressing it to her belly. She was warm, and Will pressed his face into her hair, inhaled, and she sighed.

"Keep the nightmares away," she whispered, and Will was nodding, holding her tightly.

"Always," he whispered, his lips ghosting a kiss along her hair, "Always."


	10. First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was talking Bevlana head canons and got, "Because I'm a huge perv and now I'm really interested in this pairing, what was Alana's and Bev's first time like? (If you don't mind me asking)" and OF COURSE I went off in a ficlet. Because I love Bevlana.

So Alana is worked up because of Will and Hannibal’s relationship- because she has had feelings for them both and still harbors the last threads of them, but she is their friend and she genuinely wants them to be happy. So she’s frustrated with herself, and Beverly has brought her back to her apartment for a few drinks, but they barely touched their beer as Alana is just emptying all her emotions out, because Beverly has slowly become a friend. And Beverly lets her get it all out and then pulls her into a hug, stroking her hair and not saying anything.

And Alana can’t help but think as she nestles into Beverly that she smells really good- refreshing, warm cotton and fresh sunflowers (that is my head canon Beverly scent that I cannot shake)- and Alana pressed her face into her hair and neck, inhales, and then laughs at herself because this is ridiculous. When she looks up to apologize, Beverly is just smiling at her- a genuine smile, the kind that goes straight up to her eyes, and Beverly’s smile could stop the world spinning, Alana realizes this. Without thinking she sinks her hands into Beverly’s hair and kisses her, full of the fire she had been harboring.

Beverly pulls her closer, because she’s not so secretly wanted this- but didn’t dare pursue Alana, because she knew about her unresolved feelings- and didn’t think she was into women. And the kiss turns heated, and Alana is losing herself, forgetting everything except that Beverly’s hands roaming over her make her feel alive and wanted, and when Beverly is touching her breasts she’s moaning in a way that shocks herself.

They never actually leave the couch. There might be a fleeting thought to get to Beverly’s bed, but it doesn’t happen. Beverly gets Alana down to all flesh right there, and she worships her, kisses every inch of her she can get to, loves the little sighs and breaths Alana gives her when her kisses are just right. She kisses straight down between her breasts, of her navels, and when her mouth is working its magic between Alana’s thighs she’s arching and crying, has gone mad and can’t stop shaking. Beverly brings her off once like that, then lays against her, kissing her down from the high only to press her hand between them and get Alana off all over again.

Alana breathy and flushed down to her breasts after her second orgasm, and she clings to Beverly, pushes at clothing and murmurs that she’s pretty, which makes Beverly laugh, because she thinks Alana is the most beautiful thing on this planet. She starts removing her own clothing finally only because Alana asks- Alana wants to see her, and when she’s half naked Alana is pushing kisses along her collar bone and breasts tentatively, unsure what she should be doing. She’s never been with a woman, and admits it, and Beverly reassures her she doesn’t have to do anything.

But Alana wants to.

They manage to get Beverly’s pants and panties down her thighs, and then Beverly takes her hand, guiding it between her thighs, telling her how to move her fingers, exactly where and how she likes to be touched. Her moans of approval make Alana feel hot all over again, and she kissed Beverly’s mouth right as Beverly cums, rocking Beverly right down to her core.

Eventually, they do get Beverly fully naked, and the two end up stretched out along the couch, Beverly spooning Alana, breathing in her hair and the scent of the flowers in Alana’s perfume, and Alana clutches the hand Beverly has on her belly and squeezes it, unsure what she’s feeling in that moment, and deciding that for once, she doesn’t have to put a name to her emotions, doesn’t have to analyze them. For one night, she lets go of herself because Beverly makes her feel safe enough for that.


	11. Remarkable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "i don't normally ask for this kinda thing but after that finale i am in desperate need of some hannigram fluff and youre my favourite writer so. could you please do a little something involving pre-established domestic bliss full of kissing and cuddling and letting will know hes loved and just ugh please my heart. smut or nonsmut your choice just plz. all the fluff. all of it. xxx"
> 
> I was not about to turn down any comfort fics anyone needed. Not after the finale.

Hannibal set the glass mug of coffee on the counter, taking a small spoonful of sugar and dumping it in, before stirring it gently. He took his own black this morning, and gathered the two mugs up, then made his way to the stairs and ascended towards his bedroom.

Inside, stilled curled up in bed where Hannibal had left him a half hour ago, was Will, sleeping soundly. Hannibal smiled and walked over, setting both mugs of coffee on the bedside table- Will's closest to the bed- and when he looked back Will's eyes were blinking open, a brilliant mix of grey and blue staring right into him.

"G'morning," Will offered, his tongue heavy from sleep. He yawned, stretched out, and Hannibal settled on the edge of the bed, reaching out to place his hand on Will's back and rub gently along his spine. There was something enjoyable about Will waking up on his belly, something about the way his shoulders flexed and his spine curved that Hannibal enjoyed. He found it beautiful.

He found all of Will beautiful.

"Are you still tense?" Hannibal asked, remembering how exhausted and tight Will had been when he finally had come home the prior evening. He'd crawled into bed and wanted nothing more than to stay there for an eternity.

"A little," Will admitted, trying to rotate his shoulders, and Hannibal leaned over him, grasping at both with his skilled hands and rubbing into the muscle, pushing the tension out. Will groaned, let his head stay resting on the pillow, as Hannibal worked the kinks still tight in his shoulders and neck, before dragging it all down his spine in a way that left Will moaning, pulling it from his body when he reached the small of his back. Hannibal smiled at the pleased little sounds, and leaned over Will, pressing his mouth to the back of his neck and kissing gently. Will smiled, turning his head, pushing himself up slightly, and he managed to steal a quick kiss from Hannibal before the man had sat up properly.

"I brought you some coffee," Hannibal offered, "If you are interested, I can make you breakfast. But I thought you might be more interested in returning to sleep."

"I'm most interested in you crawling back in here," Will admitted, smiling- lazy yet dazzling- and Hannibal chuckled, crawling over Will and squirming his way under the blankets. He lay on his side and pulled a near naked Will back against his clothed frame, feeling the way his back curved and he fit so perfectly into place, the way his bottom rested right at Hannibal's groin and could be either a taunt or a simple comfort. In that moment, Will's entire body was a source of sweet heat, of comfort, and Hannibal locked his arm around him and buried his face in his hair, inhaling and sighing, softly.

Will squirmed, getting comfortable, and reached down, using one hand to cover Hannibal's and squeezing gently. "I could stay like this forever," he admitted, then yawned again. Hannibal chuckled.

"Go back to sleep, beloved," he whispered, kissing at his sleep tussled curls. "I will get you fresh coffee after."

"Will you stay?" Will asked, rolling onto his back, lifting one arm up so Hannibal fit into the space allotted. Hannibal did, kissed at Will's neck lightly, heard Will laugh- sleepy and light.

"Of course," Hannibal offered, draping an arm over him and squeezing. "Where else would I go?"

"I don't know," Will admitted, turning and staring at Hannibal's dark eyes. "But sometimes the thought just creeps into my mind that maybe...I dunno. You might leave." He sighed, reached up and ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, I'm making no sense, right? I'm just tired, I'll shut up-"

Hannibal leaned in that very moment, pressing his mouth to Will's and muting any other words he had planned. Will lost himself in the slow movement of Hannibal's mouth, let his guide the lazy kiss in a rhythm Will could keep up with in his sleepy state, and reached one arm up, sinking a hand into Hannibal's hair and stroking.

Hannibal lightened his kisses, spoke against Will's mouth slowly. "I will never leave," he whispered, took a moment to swallow down Will's waiting breath. "I have nowhere to go, Will." He closed his eyes for a moment as he pulled back, loved the way Will's fingers wove through his hair, finger tips brushing his scalp. "There is nothing without you."

Will smiled, a heavy tug at his lips, and he leaned up, kissed Hannibal again, felt Hannibal shifting to press closer, his tongue running along Will's lower lip but not entering. Will whimpered, just once, eyelids heavy, and Hannibal was pulling back again to look down at him, to smile and admire the gentlest flush to his cheeks, the life in his sleepy, heavy lidded eyes. Life despite fatigue, life despite overwork.

"You're beautiful," Hannibal whispered, and Will didn't believe he'd ever heard him sound so sincere in anything. His blush grew, made Hannibal smile, who slipped his hand to his face, stroked his thumb over one warm cheek. "My beloved Will."

Will turned, kissed the ball of Hannibal's thumb, pulled his hand free from Hannibal's hair only to grip at Hannibal's hand, hold it in place as he turned his face and kissed at his palm. Hannibal felt his chest tightening, constricting pleasantly and warmly as Will kissed against, as the stubble on his face tickled slightly.

"I love you," Hannibal whispered, leaning down and resting his forehead against Will's curls. "I do so love you, remarkable boy." He wanted to say it again, over and over again, until the pressure in his chest was too great and his words were only small sounds, breathes that Will would understand, because he had a view into Hannibal's mind that allowed it.

Will was smiling, kissing Hannibal's palm again, deciding that that was actually the most sincere Hannibal had ever sounded. "I love you too," he whispered, as Hannibal began shifting Will back onto his side, pulling him back against his chest and holding him tightly.

Hannibal didn't speak again, and neither did Will. Will fit back against him perfectly, running one foot along his calf before their legs entangled, and he let his eyes fall shut. Hannibal listened to the changes in Will's breathing, until they were shallow, soft breaths, and then he smiled into Will's neck, kissing gently, letting his own eyes slip shut.

No one was, nor ever would be, as remarkable as this boy. Hannibal knew, didn't question this, could only be thankful that Will was his, that he was graced with the gift of spending the rest of his life curled up around Will, holding his perfection in his arms and being allowed to admire such a masterpiece when others were not even allowed close enough to see the fine details in his startling eyes.


	12. He was supposed to leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "because I'm still hurting, I would reeeeeeally love some drabble about the aftermath of the finale. You get to decide on what happens, maybe Will falls in a coma and Alana survives, please just don't change anything that has actually already happened i just want to cheer myself up without being too unrealistic. THank you ( ; u ;)"
> 
> Don't read this if you haven't seen Mizumono. Don't read this if you're looking for comfort. It turned out to be the opposite...

Alana had lost count of the days. She had woken up, after days of unconsciousness, and someone had told her. She'd kept track at first, with a rage tight in her chest that made breathing hard. She woke up and told herself, "Six days", or "Eight days", or whatever the number was then. Now, she woke up and her mind was blank for a moment, and she didn't _want_ to know the number. She didn't want to know anything, but she was cursed with forever knowing all of it.

She gripped the arms of the chair, looking at Will as he lay on his bed, listening to the beeps of the machines. Comatose. Dead to the world- living inside his head. She almost envied him- she wondered what sort of fantasies he was living out, in that moment. What sort of world he had escaped to, what sort of palace his memory had erected to protect him from the truth. She envied him, because she wanted nothing more than to forget all of this, to cease to exist and never have to face her broken reality again.

Some moments, Alana wished the fall had killed her.

She took her hands back, knotted them in her lap, counted the beeps of the machines and closed her eyes. If she tried, and tried very hard, sometimes she could drown it out- sometimes she could make herself forget for just a few seconds. She would be at Hannibal's dinner table, smiling at him, at Will- there would have been no mess, they had reset time and fixed all the cracks in reality. She was with both of them, but she was untouched. She took her body back and even in her fantasies, she gave it to neither. It was her own.

She opened her eyes at the sounds of footsteps, and Will's evening nurse was smiling at her, warmly. Alana knew this one very well, she had been with Will many times.

"Evenin', Dr. Bloom," she offered, stopping and clutching her clipboard to her chest. "You look lovely tonight."

"Thank you," Alana offered, reaching up to absently touch at her dark waves. She forced herself, every day, to look presentable. She wanted to look as normal as possible when Will woke up. If he woke up.

She almost choked and told herself it _had_ to be a when.

The nurse walked over to Will, making a few notes on her clipboard, tapping her pen from time to time. Alana reached out, leaning slightly, grasping at Will's exposed hand, and squeezing. It was warm but she knew it would feel all wrong, lifeless and unable to grasp her back.

However, she felt his fingers flex when she grabbed him, and her head jerked up to his face. He grimaced, gave a little sight, his eyebrows knitting together, before his eyelids fluttered, and slowly, slowly they lifted and revealed the blue-grey behind. Alana's mouth fell open, her heart thudding wildly in her chest, and the nurse stopped what she was doing to watch.

"Will," Alana whispered, and he turned his head, looking at her- straight at her, into her, and Alana broke. She choked on a sob, heard the nurse saying she needed to get the doctor, but barely registered her leaving. She felt Will's hand pull from her's, very slowly, and felt his knuckles running along her cheek, over tears. She grabbed his hand, pressed her mouth to his palm in a half kiss, and sobbed into it.

"It's good to see you." His voice was hoarse, barely there, but Alana was nodding.

"I was worried you never would," she admitted, "You've been gone a while."

"How...long?"

Alana shook her head. "I used to know. But...I...I gave up knowing. I didn't want to know. I still don't." She kissed towards his wrist, wanted to kiss his face, his mouth, every bit of him just to thank God he was still here. She had no one else.

Will nodded, closed his eyes for a moment, before focusing on her again. This time, he looked beyond just her, took in the chair she was sitting in, and his mouth fell into a frown. Alana released his hand, traced along the arm of the chair with one hand.

"From the waist down," she admitted, feeling a slight quiver in her voice. "I'll never walk again."

Will nodded. She saw behind his eyes he was feeling something, or a mix of a lot of things, over that. But he didn't have the energy to show them. He didn't have the capacity, in that moment. He was fresh to the world and wouldn't be with her long, Alana knew. He'd sleep again- she just hoped he'd awaken much sooner next time.

"Abigail?" Alana openly choked.

"Don't," she whispered, "Don't do this Will. Don't ask me about her."

"I...need to," he swallowed, and it seemed almost painful, "need to know." Alana took a moment to try and collect herself, but when she spoke her voice wavered, ended in a half sob.

"She's dead."

Will closed his eyes, but said nothing for a moment. Took a few breaths that looked painful, before slowly, he whispered, "...Hannibal?"

"Gone." Alana shook her head. "There's a manhunt but...you know him. As intimately as I do. You..." Alana licked her lips, felt herself shaking. "You loved him...like I did."

"Love him," Will corrected, and his gut clenched so painful he could have cried out, stitches pulsing in his skin that Alana couldn't see. Alana bowed her head, her tears dropping delicately onto Will's bed sheets.

"You won't ever stop," she whispered, and it wasn't a question because she knew the answer. She'd seen it, the infatuation in Hannibal's eyes for Will, the admiration. She never saw the reverence with which the man touched Will, but she could imagine. It didn't change her own past with Hannibal, her own muddled feelings of desire and comfort with him. She could reconcile both her and Will's feelings with each other. But her own...they had faded. She saw no comfort in Hannibal now, if she dared to think on him- most days she tried to forget he had ever lived. She saw a loss, and she saw hatred for herself for letting him blind her. She thought she was above that, she thought she should have seen.

Yet she didn't fault Will for still loving him.

She looked up, and Will was staring off now, silent. Inside his head, he saw those dark, burgundy eyes, eyes like wine that washed over him, felt Hannibal's gentle touch on his face, Felt the way he held him even as there was a knife in his belly. He didn't feel anything else, except that touch, that gentle reverence, and he missed it- missed it so badly his entire body ached and he wanted to retract again, into himself, into his memory palace, a mix of fishing trips with Abigail by his side, of running with the dogs through the fields, of Alana and Beverly's laughs-

Of Hannibal Lecter's mouth on his, for the first time, the first of many- of standing by the fire in his office and throwing notes to the flames and Hannibal stopping him, pulling him closer and holding his face to kiss him, to open Will up the way Will had begun to desire.

"He was supposed to leave," Will whispered, closing his eyes for one more deep breath. Hannibal was supposed to leave, to disappear. Jack was never supposed to be there, Alana was never supposed to be there- Abigail had ceased to exist. Hannibal was supposed to leave, and Will knew, he knew, the man would have contacted him, would have found him, come gathered him up later and taken him as well. Or Will would have hunted him. Hunted him down, but when he found him instead of a gun to his head he'd have his arms around him, and they could have finally let the game end. They knew what this was, they danced around it and toyed with it but in the end, the bitter end, they knew it was a love they couldn't name.

Alana was glad Will hadn't asked about Jack- she didn't have it in her to discuss anymore of this tangled tragedy- and was thankful when the nurse came back with the doctor. The doctor greeted Will, asked a few general questions, then checked his readings on the machine, before slipping out and telling Will to get his rest, he'd be back in the morning for a thorough check.

"You're tired," Alana whispered, because it was true, but also because part of her wanted to run away from Will in that moment. He was too much, he was a reminder, he was clinging to something she wished she could. He was something she wasn't ready to fully deal with. He was alive, that was all she needed in that moment. "I should let you sleep."

"I slept so long," Will whispered, but he didn't fight her as she took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I'll...be back," she offered. Will nodded, and watched as Alana disentangled herself, maneuvered her chair with a bit of difficulty towards the door, before another nurse stopped and offered to help her. Alana accepted with her bowed head, hating that she hadn't fully mastered it yet. Hating that she felt helpless within her own body, something that had always been her's. She had mastered her physical, had controlled it, and now she felt a slave to the very flesh and bone she had once loved.

Will turned away from it, saw the nurse was changing his IV's. She smiled at him, warmly. "If you need anything, Mr. Graham, you let me know. I've been here most nights with you, so don't feel embarrassed or anything."

Will said nothing for a moment, before he offered, "Will. Just call me Will." He could have sounded more polite, he was sure, but his eyes burned, the lids heavy, and he wanted to slip back into his palace, into Hannibal's waiting arms and comforting mouth, hear the way he called him remarkable inside Will's head.

"Okay Will," she said, tucking a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear that has escaped from her messy knot at the base of her neck. She smiled, and it was soothing, warm, very friendly. "You lemme know if you need anything. My name's Molly, and I'll be here all night."

She patted his hand, then slipped away, turning the lights off in his room. In the darkness, Will closed his eyes and let the tears finally come, silent sobs in mourning over Abigail, over Alana, over himself and what he was, laying in the hospital bed with his insides jumbled together-

But they fell for Hannibal too. The fell for the man he loved, because Hannibal hadn't understood it, Will's love. He thought he had, he thought he had seen a rejection in Will, when Will had done all he could to protect the man. He'd wanted him to run, to be free- he wouldn't take his life, his freedom. He was supposed to leave. And Will, he would have followed.

He would have followed anywhere.

His tears were hot, searing into his cheeks, but Will relished it, welcomed it. It was real. It was all real. He bit his tongue to keep from mewling, wanted Hannibal there to touch him, the way he had before the knife was in his gut, hold him the way he'd cradled him while Will bled out on his floor. He wanted to whimper that he wanted the gift Hannibal had given him, the gift of sight. He'd loved it, he'd cherished it- he still did, alone in the dark hospital room. He saw and he understood, and he loved. Yet Hannibal- Hannibal had been unable to do the same. He couldn't see, couldn't understand Will. Jack and Alana and Abigail- none of them were supposed to be there-

And he, _he was supposed to leave._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My predictions for S3? Will is alive. Alana is alive but paralyzed. Abigail is dead. Jack, I'm unsure about, hence why I danced around him.
> 
> If anyone needs me, I'll be curling up and crying more.


	13. Hannibal: BTS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "SOMEONE (doesn't have to be you) should really do a behind-the-scenes fic for season 2 and while that SOMEONE (still doesn't have to be you) writes it she should consider making it as sappy, lame, and absolutely hilarious as possible because I think we need some laughs right now...you know..just to fight the drinking *cries pathetically on your lap*"
> 
> I kinda went into an RPF ship...

"Cut!" The lights brightened considerably in that moment, and Hugh, pressed so close to Mads he could smell the cigarettes on him, feel him breathing. They stayed in character for a moment, to make sure the cameras had stopped rolling, before the two began laughing, lips being pulled into silly grins as Mads kept his hand on the side of Hugh's face. His thumb traced his ear, once, as they continued to laugh, as Kacey, standing a few feet behind, was even giggling, cute and girlish as she started off the set in search of a water bottle.

"Take five, everyone get a drink. We'll resume in a few."

Mads released Hugh, handing the fake knife off to one of the prop coordinators as the smaller man made his way off the set. Mads watched him go, tilting his head slightly, unable to keep from doing it. When you worked that closely with someone, it was hard to not feel some sort of odd pull, straight under his ribs that made little to no sense.

He had to carefully step along the set so as not to track fake blood where it shouldn't go. Ahead of him, he watched as Hugh nearly tripped over a bundle of cords, stumbling once and bursting out into laughter- a much needy break from the atmosphere of the scene. They'd shot and reshot it so many times that Mads was beginning to think he would never shoot another scene. And they still had to get the actual cut through Hugh- or, precisely, Will's- belly, and him bleeding on the floor. They were saving that, and Mads, while looking forward to the end product, wasn't looking forward to the chemically smell of the dyed substance everywhere, nor the fact that the studio seemed rather cold.

He made his way of the set, out of it after stopping off at the chair so perfectly labeled Hannibal Lecter to grab his cigarettes and a lighter, then slipped outside. It was cold, but with only enough time for one cigarette, he didn't think he needed a jacket. He pulled one from the carton, stropped it down on a small table, and lit it, taking a deep drag and exhaling with a sigh.

He heard the footsteps as they closed in next to him, saw Hugh out of the corner of his eye, drinking from a water bottle and gazing up at the smoke as it dissipated. "You'll freeze," Mads pointed out, and Hugh laughed.

He had a wonderful laugh.

"Then so will you." He nodded to Mads's lack of a jacket, and the two laughed. Hugh tipped his water bottle towards him, raising his eyebrows, and Mads took it with a smile, holding out his cigarette. Hugh laughed. "Even exchange?" he questioned, taking it between his fingers and taking a drag, tilting his head back to exhale.

"Something like that." Mads took a long drink, set the bottle down on the table, and watched the way Hugh took another drag, before he handed the cigarette back, their fingers brushing. Hugh looked away at the touch, and Mads stuck the cigarette between his lips, reaching out to press his hand between Hugh's shoulder blades. When he removed it, a flurry of smoke followed. "Ready for the rough part?"

"I think we've already filmed that," Hugh pointed out, "At least you don't have to hold me anymore."

"Shame, we were just getting friendly." His thumb traced circles between Hugh's shoulder blades, gentle, and he watched Hugh's eyelids flutter. Pretty boy, he was. Well, had been, ten years ago. Pretty man was probably the more appropriate term, but Mads liked the ring of pretty boy more, when it came to Hugh. "Maybe we should convince them to do another take."

"Let's not." Hugh didn't pull away from Mads's touch still, was close enough that the older man could see the color in his cheeks from the cold. He smiled and took a last drag from his cigarette, before tossing it down to ground it out.

"So rumor has it you did some singing?" Hugh quirked up an eyebrow, turning to Mads, who laughed. "I'd love to hear it."

"Watch the movie, then." Mads rolled his eyes.

"You could just sing now."

"Oh about what? Puppies and my...what is it they call Hannibal and Will?"

Mads chuckled. "Murder Husbands. That's what Bryan said."

"Right. Well...that. I think I've only got Will on my brain, sorry." Mads frowned, turning to fully face Hugh, hand moving up to the back of his neck and gripping, gently. The hold was firm, and for an instant Hugh's eyes rolled back, his mouth dropping open. Intrigued, Mads leaned closer. "Don't...don't do that," Hugh breathed, but Mads was doing it again, gripping his neck tightly, and Hugh's head was dropping back, his mouth right there.

"Sure you want me to stop?" It was a whisper, breathed on Hugh's lips, and the younger man said nothing, just looked up with his blue-grey eyes at Mads, and then they dropped closed. Free of the gaze, his stomach tight suddenly- something that happened a lot recently, with how close he always seemed to be to Hugh now- Mads leaned closer, breathed against his mouth again, gave him the final chance to say no.

It wasn't a word in either of their vocabularies, however.

When Mads kissed him, it was brute force- a harsh rhythm that pulled Hugh's eyes open and had him gasping, reaching up to grab at his red-stained shirt, while Mads's other hand went to his waist, tugging him closer. Their chests crashed, and Hugh nipped at Mads's lower lip with sharp, fine teeth. In an instant, Mads pulled back, laughing, raising his eyebrows in shock.

"I think that was my job," he pointed out, and Hugh just stared.

"Fuck," he whispered, "Did...did we just..."

"Yeah." They were quiet for a moment, before Hugh started again.

"Claire is going to kill me." Mads gave him a charming smile, and Hugh, in that moment, forgot that it mattered. He leaned closer instead, pressed his mouth to Mads's jawline, gently, nose brushing along his cheek. "Let's go back, before we're missed."

"If you promise to let me pick up where I left off." Hugh rolled his eyes.

"No such promise. I don't even know what we're-" He was shut up abruptly by another kiss, this time Mads's tongue tracing his lower lip, squirming into his mouth so Hugh could suck on it, unable, unwilling to protest. He tasted like cigarettes, and Hugh liked it. The hand on his waist curved around to his spine, followed it down to the swell of his ass, and Hugh pressed closer to Mads, ground against him before he could stop himself, choked on his breath as the kiss broke.

"Promise," Mads said, a low rumble, mouth still so close, and Hugh blanched for a moment, before whispering,

"Promise."

Mads smiled, releasing him, and Hugh stepped back quickly, putting space back between them before, god forbid, someone saw. He was about to speak, when the door opened and Kacey was leaning out, smiling at them.

"C'mon guys, we're waiting on you!" She waved them in. "It's time to get messy!"

She turned and assumed they would follow, and both men gave each other a silent look of agreement- she was the only one looking forward to being drenched in cold, fake blood.

They made their way back inside, and for a brief moment, Mads's hand ghosted along Hugh's lower back- and the younger man entertained perhaps asking for one more take of Will and Hannibal's intimacy- just like Mads suggested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I did it. RPF. The door is open. I ship it so hard. The truth is out.


	14. The happy murder family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "if you're still accepting prompts, I was wondering if you could do some fluff? But not Hannigram fluff. Murder Family fluff. I'm not sure if there's any murder family fluff that exists."
> 
> I kept it as non-shippy as I could, and just "family" like. Trust me, it was hard XD
> 
> Also, set in the same verse as There Was Another Way.

Abigail sat on her bed, one foot tucked up under her, her other leg tapping her foot against the polished wood of her bedroom floor. Behind her, Will was settled on the bed, working a brush carefully through her dark hair. After every few strokes his fingers would follow, brush her scalp and then through the fine silk of her hair. It made her eyelids grow heavy, and she hummed her content at the gentle touches.

The first time Will had brushed her hair, in the dark of a motel room after that night- the night Abigail thought she was watching the family Hannibal had promised her crumbling before her very eyes- it should have felt strange, she reasoned then and now. But having Will touch her was soothing, send arm chills through her at the simple realization that he existed in her world again. She was sure she saw the same wonder at the realization in his eyes, as well.

Will climbed off her bed carefully, leaned down and grasped her hair, braiding it in the way she liked, had taught him- to cover the scar along the side of her face. When he was done, she reached up, touched her styled hair carefully, than grabbed his hand, squeezing it once. Will smiled at her, kissed her temple, then left her to finish dressing, making his way downstairs.

He found Hannibal in the kitchen, mid-sip with his morning coffee. He looked up, smiled around the lip and swallowed. "Ciao," Will said with a smile, as a glass mug was passed to him- similar to those Hannibal had left behind in Baltimore, except these had a fine, delicate ring of gold paint along the lip. "Thanks," Will offered, raising the mug slightly before taking a sip.

"Buongiorno, amore," Hannibal offered with a smile, "And you are most welcome." He held an arm out, and Will made his way over, slipping into it and placing a warm kiss on Hannibal's cheek. "Where is Abigail?"

"I'm right here." She walked in, holding a light, floral scars in one hand, slowly looping it around her neck. Will set his coffee down, walking over to her and stopping her from tightening it, so it lay in loose tufts around her collar bone, down against her breasts.

"Don't hide them," he whispered, reaching out to trace a finger along the faint scar on her neck. "You're too beautiful to hide." Abigail blushed, lightly, and Hannibal walked over, reaching out to stroke his hand over her hair.

"Il mio piccolo tesoro," Hannibal whispered, "Dear Will is right." Abigail looked away as Hannibal removed his hand, taking another sip from his coffee. Will stroked her scar one last time, then went to retrieve his to finish it. His Italian was far from passable yet, Abigail's was far better- he had found, during her months of containment with Hannibal, he had been teaching her, and teaching her well. But he recognized tesoro, a term Hannibal used more often than Abigail's own name.  
Treasure.

Will watched as Hannibal washed out his mug, finishing his coffee so Hannibal could wash it as well. They were due for a drive through the city, had promised Abigail an early lunch at a cafe she had become rather fond of. Will knew there would be another round of coffee then, but it was nice to have the slight pick up in the morning. He still wasn't sleeping the best- some nights he was falling endlessly, some nights he was being torn open- others his throat bled out. He'd wake up with a start in the night heat, would throw the sheets off himself and gasp for breath, until Hannibal reached for him, half asleep, and cradled him in his embrace, murmuring to him in a plethora of languages. Some nights, English, other Italian- he used it to frequently now, it rolled off his tongue without much thought. But some nights on occasion, when Will thought perhaps Hannibal's mind wasn't at ease either- the words were Lithuanian. He knew, without knowing the language. He never asked in the morning what Hannibal had said- never remembered the words enough anyway- but he didn't feel he needed to know.

Hannibal was wiping his hands on a dish towel, then brushing his bangs from where they dust his forehead, extending a hand to Abigail to lead her towards the door. Will followed behind, stepping out into the warm sun, smelling the floors in the small potted garden Hannibal had insisted on. Strong, sweet, brightly colored, they made it seem peaceful, here.

Abigail was speaking excitedly to Hannibal, stumbling over words here and there, but he smiled at her, praised her in Italian and corrected her in it as well. The way he smiled at her, Will reasoned anyone would think she truly was his treasure-

Not that Will doubted she was. Never, despite all that had happened- despite her scars, her torment. It didn't destroy the love Hannibal held for the girl. It didn't destroy her love for Hannibal.

Will caught up, throwing his arms around Abigail's shoulders from behind and leaning over as they walked, kissing her cheek and loving the way she laughed, breaths of gold into the air. He turned, caught Hannibal's smile, before the older man stole a kiss, causing Will to release his hold on Abigail as she made it to the car, stealing the passenger seat before Will could lay claim to it.

Carefully, Hannibal reached up, sinking a hand into Will's curls as he kissed, licked his way into his mouth. Will sighed, happily, tilted his head and accepted the kiss and gave as good as he got, grasping at Hannibal's expensive, light button down, feeling the smooth fabric between his fingers. 

"You guys can do that later!" Abigail called, her door open. "I'm starving!" Will pulled back, cheeks flushed, glanced at her, and she grinned at him, raising her eyebrows in a teasing way, and Hannibal chuckled, placing a hand on the small of Will's back and guiding him towards the car.

Will reasoned he could do it later, in the warm dark of their bedroom, the walls solid and protecting around him. He could do it later, because later was a defined time now- hours from now, long but glorious hours, with a specified place. A place that, months away from the States now, from the terror and agony of that night, a place that felt as much like home as any place ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I don't speak Italian. I really flippin' wish I did.  
> Google Translate everybody!:  
> Ciao - hello  
> Buongiorno, amore - good morning, love  
> Il mio piccolo tesoro - my little treasure


	15. A good morning kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found the post "hannibal kissing will’s tummy scar once it has healed completely" on Tumblr and, well, I couldn't stop myself from writing a little scene.

Will shifted, sighing, eyes closed against the warm morning light streaming in through the small window of their bedroom. The white, light weight curtains were blown aside from the morning wind, and he could, if he focused, smell the flowers and the general scent of the city around him through the open window. He shifted, slightly, felt a hand running along his chest, down to the spot below his ribs, where it rested for a moment.

"Mornin’," he mumbled, eyes still closed, and he felt a mouth on his shoulder, the tip of his collar bone, a husky, heavily accented voice, heavy from sleep, responding.

"Good morning." Will sighed again as Hannibal traced his fingers along his ribs, feeling bone under flesh, muscle, the gentle curves. When he reached for Will’s other side, the scar on his arm brushed Will’s skin, made him shiver. Hannibal smiled into Will’s shoulder, chuckled softly, before he pulled his hand back, trailing it down along to his navel, then over the puckered center of his scar.

Will inhaled, eyes opening, staring up at the ceiling as Hannibal traced it, once, gently. Then, again, stopping to splay his hand on his belly and letting his thumb stroke a small section of it.

"Admiring your work?" Will turned his head, eyed Hannibal carefully, who looked up from Will’s shoulder.

"Just as you admire yours." He flicked his eyes down to the lump his arm created under the crisp, white sheet, and Will thought of the scars on Hannibal’s arms, of how it felt to run his fingers over them, trace them with his tongue. He said no more, understanding the sense of pride over the marks, how it felt like he had placed a brand on Hannibal- how he was sure Hannibal felt he had branded Will.

Forever, for always, they were bonded. Will wouldn’t have had it any other way.

"Do you want to get up?" Will whispered, and Hannibal lifted his hand slightly to fully trace his scar, along the entirety of his belly. "It’s early enough, we could go get some coffee, breakfast. That cafe you love."

"Let’s stay in bed," Hannibal offered, pulling the sheet down, exposing Will’s slightly tanned flesh, from all the sun he was forced to get now. Carefully, he slipped down his body, pressing his mouth to the scarred flesh- heard Will’s sharp in take of breath. He smiled into his skin, carefully kissing along the length of the scar, inhaling his warm scent, nearly shivering when Will reached down to toy with the ends of his hair. "You do amaze me, beloved," he whispered into his skin, his tongue flicking along the pale mar to Will’s perfection. "Surviving my work, only to come and find me."

"Oh, I’ll always find you, Hannibal," Will whispered, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, humming happily as Hannibal kissed along his scar again. "No matter where you run, you’ll never be free of me."

"Then it is a good thing I have stopped running." He looked up, for a moment, took in the silent bliss on Will’s face, and set back to kissing the tender flesh along his belly, one hand staying to stroke knowing fingers along his scar as he slipped even lower, wanting to hear the way Will’s moans mingled in with the sounds of Florence in the morning, so alive and pulsing right outside their bedroom window.

**Author's Note:**

> Come fine me on [Tumblr](http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/)!


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